


Inanimate Sensation

by gittarackuur



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 19:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16919076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gittarackuur/pseuds/gittarackuur
Summary: The dots appear and disappear several times, and Feitan can hear Phinks’ gears turning from miles away.





	Inanimate Sensation

Rain slams against the roof of the safe house. The wind whips, rattling the windows of the fourth floor, and Feitan keeps his gaze outward as he pulls the sheets up. He curls up under the duvet, eyes half lidded as he listens to Phinks stir next to him. Their thighs brush, heat radiating off of the enhancer, and Feitan hums softly in content.

“ _Báichī_ ,” Feitan murmurs, turning over to face him. Phinks smiles sleepily, hair sticking up in various places, and there’s a crease mark running across his cheek.

“Good morning,” Phinks says, voice thick with sleep and the hint of an accent. Feitan slides his arm under Phinks’ head, leaning in to kiss him. He scratches the back of Phinks’ neck, peppering tender kisses along his jaw.

“You leave today, yes?” he asks between kisses, and Phinks hums in reply.

“Danchou wants us gone by noon,” Phinks replies, running a broad hand down Feitan’s back. Feitan looks down at him, scowling.

“We could have had fun before you leave,” he chides, and Phinks laughs.

“Maybe if _someone_ hadn’t slept so late, we could’ve.”

Feitan slaps his chest playfully, and Phinks’ laughter echoes in the tiny room.

-

They’ve shared a bed for as long as Feitan can remember. There hasn’t been a time where, if they are together, they did not share a bed. Feitan can’t remember where their line blurs, but he does know that he loves Phinks.

It wasn’t always strong, and it didn’t always make his chest hurt. But now, as he watches Phinks dress himself for the job, an ache begins to form at the base of his ribcage.

“You’ll be here when we get back, right?” Phinks asks, snapping Feitan out of his thoughts. Feitan nods slightly, crawling on his hands and knees to the edge of the bed. Phinks smiles and runs a hand through Feitan’s hair.

“You are so fucking cute when you just wake up. You know that?” Phinks says, and Feitan grins.

“Of course,” he chides playfully, sitting back on his knees. He grabs Phinks’ shirt and pulls him down, wrapping his arms around his neck. He slots their lips together, and he smiles when he feels the corners of Phinks’ mouth turn up.

“I love you,” Phinks says gently, kissing the corner of Feitan’s mouth. “Be good while I’m gone. And do not piss Nobunaga off again. I really do not want to hear that mouthful when I come home.”

Feitan smiles, deviant and dark across his face.

“No, never.”

-

“What the fuck is this?” Phinks says, holding the sweatshirt up. Hisoka stares at him, ushering to the article of clothing.

“A sweatshirt. Surely you can see that,” he replies, and Phinks thinks he is hallucinating when he sees the ghost of a smile appear on Illumi’s face over Hisoka’s shoulder.

“I…I know what it is,” he stammers, looking down at the sweatshirt. The phrase is crude, stamped over the front of the shirt in Russian. Phinks has lost touch with most of that language, but he recognizes obscene words when he sees them.

“Then what’s the problem?” Hisoka’s voice is smooth, unbothered as he looks down at his nails. A laugh escapes Illumi, and Phinks may have been madder if Illumi’s display of emotion hadn’t distracted him.

“Nothing...it’s great. Thanks Hisoka,” he forces the phrase out, and Illumi turns away from their exchange to laugh.

This is the last holiday gift exchange Phinks participates in.

-

Feitan rummages through the closet several hours after Phinks has left the safe house. Stuffed full of clothes, shoes, bags, weapons, and other miscellaneous items, he throws things haphazardly out onto the bedroom floor in his fevered search. _Mostly ugly track suits,_ Feitan thinks to himself, scrunching up his nose when he pulls a heinous orange jacket out from the back. He tosses it out onto the floor before he finds what he’s looking for.

He yanks the sweatshirt out from under a pile of clothes, shaking it out before holding it up. The Russian phrase, bright red on a black background, trails down the front. Feitan smiles and discards his sleep shirt to put it on. He swims in the sweatshirt, infinitely too big for his petite frame, and he hugs himself in it. It smells faintly of tobacco and gasoline. Feitan chuckles as he recalls the memory of Phinks spilling gasoline on himself before lighting a building up. The smell lingered for months, and the sweatshirt had been washed and smoked in several times before Phinks had finally given up.

Feitan heads downstairs, reveling in the quiet mood that settles in the house when Phinks, Uvogin, and Franklin are gone. He finds Machi and Pakunoda in the kitchen bickering over what ingredients to put into the pot for dinner. Machi turns sharply, glaring at Feitan as he pulls a mug down from the cabinet.

“Feitan, tell her you cannot put fucking shrimp in with goat,” she says, holding a wooden spoon out. Feitan hums, peering into the pot.

“I suppose you could,” he says, swiping a finger along the rim to taste whatever mess they have concocted. Pakunoda grins, and he can feel Machi’s argument rising behind him.

“Feitan! You are disgusting,” Machi makes to whack him with the spoon. Feitan whips himself around, grabbing the spoon before it connects with his face.

“Have you heard of gumbo?” he asks, and Machi yanks the spoon from his hand.

“That’s what I said,” Pakunoda adds, her accent thick as she crosses her arms. Machi throws her hands up in defeat, exacerbated.

“Fine! Fine. Ruin a perfectly good meal,” she says, handing Pakunoda the spoon. Feitan ducks his head to hide the smile creeping across his face, and he pours hot water into his mug. He stands at the counter, watching the color of the water fade into a muddy brown.

“Isn’t this a little big for you, _liliac_?” Pakunoda teases, tugging the collar that sits around Feitan’s shoulder. He dips the tea bag a few times before looking up at her.

“It’s not mine,” he replies, blowing over the rim of the mug. Pakunoda smiles, eyes grazing over the writing.

“No, but it does suit you,” her tone is light, and Feitan rolls his eyes.

Pakunoda leans against the counter. She notes the subtle shift in Feitan’s mood.

“He is gone how long, a week?” she asks, and Feitan nods. Machi makes herself busy behind them, fussing with the cut of meat in front of her. The rain continues to pound against the windows, and Feitan finds himself floating away in his thoughts. The mug is warm, bleeding into his hands and up his arms. He wonders offhandedly if Phinks is warm, and dry; safe, wherever they are. The scent of faint tobacco entwines itself around Feitan’s body, and the ache that settled in his chest this morning presses against his sternum.

-

Feitan lies in their shared bed, sprawled out in the middle with his phone on his chest. He hears Shalnark and Machi arguing downstairs over their newest shared shitty reality television show, and he chuckles when he hears the thump of Machi smacking the back of Shalnark’s head. Chrollo’s voice carries quickly into the living room. Feitan listens to their danchou chide the two of them for fighting over something so trivial. His phone vibrates on his chest as he thinks of Phinks, and he clicks the side to open it. He hesitates to read the message, staring at his lock screen.

A picture Phinks had demanded they take, on top of a roof after a job. Feitan has blood on his cheek, hair tousled from the high winds, with Phinks behind him kissing his clean cheek. His collar, ever prominent in his outside life, hides the smile that is betrayed by the corners of his eyes. The happy feeling he had on that job blooms again in his chest, and he opens his messages.

 

_22:45 Phinks: baby_  
_22:45 Phinks: r u awake_

_22:46 Feitan: yes_  
_22:46 Feitan: are you okay?_

_22:47 Phinks: yea. i miss u_

_22:48 Feitan: i miss you too._

_22:48 Phinks: whatre u doing_

_22:50 Feitan: in bed, listening to danchou yell at shalnark and machi_

_22:50 Phinks: lmao r they watching the bachelorette_

_22:51 Feitan: don’t know. probably. machi was in a mood today_

_22:51 Phinks: lmfaoooo bet paku is thrilled about that_  
_22:51 Phinks: did paku try 2 add seafood to machi’s cooking_

_22:52 Feitan: yeah. how’d you know?_

_22:53 Phinks: paku texted me a pic of dinner and said “ur missing out”_

Feitan rolls his eyes. “Slavs,” he says aloud, watching the little dots move about as Phinks types from wherever he is. His chest is warm, and he pulls the collar of the sweatshirt over the bottom of his face. He turns, putting his head on Phinks’ pillow and inhales his scent. The ever-present tobacco, mixed with the bizarre hair product he got from Illumi, lingers in the pillowcase, and he nestles up in the sweatshirt. Feitan pulls the duvet up around his body and hugs Phinks’ pillow to his chest. His phone vibrates, and he opens the message.

_22:54 Phinks: whatre u wearing_

_22:56 Feitan: nothing sexy._  
_22:57 Feitan: plus it’s dark in here_

_22:57 Phinks: shut up ur always sexy. lemme see_  
_22:57 Phinks: use the flash u lil idiot_

Feitan sighs, rolling onto his back and holds the phone out. He takes a picture of himself, sending it before he has the chance to change his mind. The dots appear and disappear several times, and Feitan can hear Phinks’ gears turning from miles away.

_23:01 Phinks: ur so fuckin hot_  
_23:01 Phinks: wait is that the russian sweatshirt_

_23:02 Feitan: yeah_

_23:02 Phinks: nice_  
_23:02 Phinks: suiting lmfao_  
_23:02 Phinks: does it smell like gas still_

Feitan laughs softly and turns back on his side, looking out their bedroom window. The expanse of Yorkshin stretches out infinitely, and the city lights that illuminate the area are distorted by rain. The droplets slide down the windowpane, the wind unforgiving as it shakes the windows, and Feitan feels himself drifting away again. He thinks of Phinks, lying beside him, one arm slid under his head as Phinks plays some stupid game on his phone against Shalnark. There is phantom warmth coming from Phinks’ side of the bed, and Feitan feels the tension in his back unwind.

_23:05 Feitan: yeah. it does._  
_23:08 Feitan: it smells like you._

The little dots appear.

_23:08 Phinks: aw_  
_23:08 Phinks: i love u fei_  
_23:08 Phinks: u get some good sleep okay? i hope u dream about me_

Feitan looks at his lock screen. The warmth settles next to the ache in his chest.

_23:11 Feitan: doubtful_  
_23:14 Feitan: just kidding_  
_23:15 Feitan: i love you too_

-

Feitan spends the week sleeping in that sweatshirt.

He lies in bed half asleep, in the early hours of morning on Friday, when the mattress dips under the weight of a second person. Feitan stirs, tangled in the excessive fabric of the sweatshirt, and he turns his head to look over his shoulder.

The corners of Phinks’ mouth turn up, and Feitan catches the gleam of city lights that reflect off his eyes.

“ _Báichī_ ,” Feitan says softly, the word stumbling out of his mouth. Phinks smiles, pressing up against Feitan’s back as he leans in to kiss Feitan’s neck.

“Hi baby,” his tone is quiet, intimate for the time of night. His lips trail up the line of Feitan’s neck to his jaw, and Feitan turns his head ever so slightly to give Phinks what he wants.

Warmth radiates throughout Feitan’s body, enveloping him slowly, and then all at once. Phinks wraps his arms around Feitan’s frame, spooning him as they kiss lazily. Feitan breaks off, eyes lidded with sleep that threatens to take him again.

“ _Wǒ hěn xiǎngniàn nǐ_ ,” Feitan mumbles, and Phinks sighs softly as he laces their fingers.

“I missed you too Fei,” he replies, kissing the palm of Feitan’s hand before settling it against Feitan’s chest. “And I know you missed me. The sheets smell kind of like gasoline.”

Feitan hums in acknowledgement.

“I like this sweatshirt. Has good memories,” his words come out slowly, and the rain lulls his thoughts away. Phinks laughs quietly, his breath ghosting across the back of Feitan’s neck. He hugs him close to his body.

“You know what that says, right?” Phinks asks, and Feitan shakes his head.

“Hisoka got it for me like 3 years ago for that stupid holiday gift exchange. I don’t even think he knew what it said, but Illumi sure did.”

“What’s it say?” Feitan slurs as sleep begins to consume him.

Phinks smiles, kissing Feitan’s exposed shoulder.

“Cockslut.”

**Author's Note:**

> for hjo and the pt, my never ending support. 
> 
> _liliac_ is romanian for 'bat'


End file.
